The Best Medicine
by Russet McMillanPart 2
When Obi-Wan had been apprenticed to Qui-Gon for a little over a year, they went on a mission to Alderaan -- a mission that Obi-Wan privately considered useless and boring. They were acting as couriers for some documents from the Supreme Chancellor to the Senator of Alderaan, who was currently on her home planet because the Senate was not in session. Certainly the documents were important, but they were not in any unusual risk of being stolen; any responsible courier could have handled them. Two Jedi were hardly needed.
What Obi-Wan didn't find out until several years later was that they had really been sent to Alderaan as a possible stepping-off point for a much more dangerous mission to Rhunir. They were only waiting for the Rhun to make an official request to the Council for Jedi intervention, and then they could make the journey in a much shorter time than if they had started from Coruscant. Instead, the Rhun decided they would much rather continue killing each other for a while longer, and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan didn't travel to Rhun until another two years had passed and the exhausted combatants were ready for a truce.
In the meantime, unaware of the potentially dangerous mission, Obi-Wan found himself at loose ends on Alderaan, with his master couseling patience any time he complained. Obi-Wan preferred planets with more action and less culture. His only consolation was the Senator's youngest son, who was twenty-two Alderaanian years old -- or, in Coruscant terms, Obi-Wan's senior by just over a year. Fellist was sufficiently fascinated with all things Jedi that he was happy to pass time with a younger boy. And it soon became obvious that he hoped to learn more from Obi-Wan than obscure facts about life at the Temple.
For his part, Obi-Wan was quite certain that he didn't want his first sexual experience to be with Fellist Vaar. He was hoping for a first partner who was a little older and more experienced. But Fellist was a handsome and charming boy, with olive skin and blue-black hair and enormous dark eyes. Obi-Wan decided he would enjoy this opportunity to look openly at another human with desire in his eyes, to practice the mysterious art of flirtation, and even to steal a few kisses in the lower-level laundry where only droids could see them.
Of course, the fact that only droids could *see* didn't mean that only droids would *know*. When Obi-Wan returned with tingling lips to the rooms set aside for them in the Senator's mansion, he found Qui-Gon waiting in the common room. "We must talk, Padawan."
Obi-Wan sighed. "It's nothing serious, Master. We were just playing around. Experimenting."
Qui-Gon's raised brow was eloquent of doubt. "Obi-Wan, do you know the legal age of consent on Alderaan?"
"Er...no?"
"Twenty-five."
So Fellist still had two and a half Alderaanian years to go. Poor fellow.
"Do you know the age of consent on Coruscant?"
That was even older. "Eighteen. But Master, it's ridiculous! No one waits --"
"You must always know the law and respect it, Padawan, even if it is sometimes necessary to break it."
"Yes, Master. But we weren't *going* to break the law, really! I'm not ready to go all the way yet. And I wouldn't do anything that might offend the Senator."
Qui-Gon gave him a piercing assessment from under hooded brows. He had to know his padawan was telling the truth. Obi-Wan sometimes wondered if it was because of Xanatos that Qui-Gon seemed so suspicious of him all the time. He tried to be patient with his master, but he hadn't been doing anything wrong this time!
At last Qui-Gon relaxed back into his seat. "Well, that sounds more like the sensible Padawan I thought I knew."
Obi-Wan smiled in relief. Someday, his master would learn that he wasn't like Xanatos.
"But we still need to talk. Sit down, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan sat across from his master and tried to look attentive, since Qui-Gon always disapproved of any sign of impatience. But Obi-Wan had a feeling he already knew what this talk would be about.
"I know you missed many of the initiate classes when you were ten and eleven," Qui-Gon began, referring to an injury that had set Obi-Wan's training back by a year and a half, so that he almost wasn't chosen as a padawan at all.
"They assigned me to a new class with younger students," Obi-Wan explained. "I *did* attend the lectures on sexuality, Master."
A sharp look from Qui-Gon informed the apprentice that he was coming close to revealing impatience. "I'm concerned that you may have missed one lecture in particular," he said. He paused, evidently considering the most delicate way to continue.
Obi-Wan sighed once more. He *tried* not to be sarcastic with Qui-Gon, but it was hard sometimes, especially when his master acted as if he still belonged in the creche. It was obvious that someone was going to have to be blunt in this conversation, and it was apparently not going to be Qui-Gon. "Master, I am familiar with issues of reproduction, contraception, lubrication, and disease transmission. I also know about obtaining assurances of consent and taking responsibility for mutual pleasure. And I've read about common sex toys, games of dominance and submission, threesomes, orgies --"
Qui-Gon stiffened. "Surely they don't cover all *that* with the initiates," he objected.
"No, Master, but Coruscant has an extensive infonet."
Qui-Gon frowned. "Some of the information on the net is erroneous, you know."
"Master, I'm *fourteen*. I *think* I can tell the difference between a rumor site and a public information site."
"Padawan." Spoken ominously.
Obi-Wan winced. Perhaps he'd been a little too heavy on the irony, there. "Sorry, Master. I just mean to say that I know about all that stuff already. We don't need to discuss it if it makes you uncomfortable."
Qui-Gon made a small huffing sound, and Obi-Wan realized there was amusement at the back of his master's eyes. "There is more to sex than toys and games, Padawan. Did you ever attend the lecture on sex specifically among the Jedi?"
Obi-Wan drew a blank there. Why would sex be any different for the Jedi than for the Force-blind? "I suppose I did miss that one," he admitted.
"Ah. Well, then, perhaps you have noticed...I assume you engage in self-pleasure, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan felt his face starting to heat up. Discussing sex was one thing, but this was getting personal! "Yes, Master." He studied the plush carpet beneath his boots.
"Good. Have you noticed a change in the Force when you become excited, then?"
Obi-Wan's eyes snapped up in surprise. "Er, no. In the Living Force?" He was always forgetting to pay proper attention there.
"In your own Living Force. Sexual arousal and release can cause a powerful buildup of energy in Force-sensitives."
"No, I never noticed." But now that he thought of it, there was the way he kept getting little shocks of energy when he went to the 'fresher afterwards to clean up. And there was that time..."Oh."
"Yes, Padawan?"
Now Obi-Wan's face was truly burning. "Remember last month on Malastare when the assassins came into our suite at night?"
"And you stopped all of them before they even reached my door? Yes, I recall." Qui-Gon studied his apprentice closely. "I see. Did they interrupt something, then?"
Obi-Wan shrugged, acutely embarrassed. "I was just getting started. But I've never felt so connected to the Force during a fight."
"That is what sexual excitement normally does to a Force-sensitive. The effect tends to be stronger in sex with a partner."
Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "Is it...harmful?"
"No, not at all. At least, not to us. You must be careful what you do with the extra Force, however -- especially if your sexual partner is Force-blind."
"What *do* you do with it?"
"There are several options, depending on your strength and level of control. You can absorb the energy into yourself -- this is probably what you've been doing so far on your own. It results in a stronger connection to the Force afterwards, although there can be some... uncomfortable effects."
Obi-Wan nodded, remembering the little shocks he had received. If it truly was stronger after sex with a partner, he would start to develop a phobia of running water!
"If your partner is also Force-sensitive, he or she can absorb some of the energy as well. Or you can dissipate it elsewhere."
"You mean, levitate something during sex? Like that?"
Qui-Gon smiled. "Few people have the mental control for levitation under such circumstances. But something simple, such as raising the room temperature a few degrees, will easily dissipate the excess energy."
"Oh. And making it warmer is probably nice if you have to be naked anyway," Obi-Wan mused.
"But you must be careful not to channel the energy into living things." Qui-Gon looked stern. "Especially -- and this is most important, Padawan -- *never* direct the excess into a Force-blind partner. It's true this can enhance your partner's pleasure, and because of that, you might find some people who will ask you to do so. There are even beings who will deliberately seduce Jedi in hopes of just such an experience. But channeling excess Force into a partner unable to handle it is unethical and can have dangerous side effects for your partner."
Obi-Wan swallowed. "What sort of side effects?"
"Exhaustion and immune suppression are the most common, but in extreme cases it can lead to premature aging." Qui-Gon looked at his apprentice very seriously. "Do you understand now why I had to make sure that you know about this?"
Obi-Wan nodded quickly, shivering as he thought of what might have happened if he *had* gone all the way with Fellist. Or if his master hadn't told him about this strange effect. How could he have missed out on such important information?
"Good. Now that you do know about it, I want you to try to become more aware of the Force. When you pleasure yourself, feel how it builds up. Try out some different ways of dissipating the energy, and also pay attention to how it feels if you simply absorb it instead. All these things will help you when you go on to try sex with a partner."
Obi-Wan instantly started counting up the hours until he could fairly expect to have the privacy to experiment on his own. His eyes flickered speculatively to the door of his bedroom, but he decided it would be a little too obvious to hole up in there during the afternoon.
Qui-Gon was watching as if he knew exactly what Obi-Wan was thinking, and the amusement had returned to his eyes. "Let me just tell you one more thing, Padawan, as a caution to you. I want to be certain you understand the importance of this." His mouth quirked a little sadly. "My own first sexual experience, many years ago, was with a fellow padawan. We were outside in a secluded meadow, since that was the only place where we could find any privacy. We allowed the Force that built up within us to flow into the grasses and plants around us. We thought it would be harmless enough, and we were quite charmed afterwards to find ourselves surrounded by flowers in bloom. But that night a harsh storm blew up, as often happens in that place and season. All the plants that had bloomed out of season were killed by the heavy rains. When my friend and I returned a few days later, the spot where we had lain was quite denuded."
Obi-Wan listened with his mouth open, struggling to get his mind around the concept of his master as a padawan, his master as a sexual being, his master as an awkward teenager looking for a place to make love -- making mistakes and learning lessons. It wasn't something he had ever thought about before, but now he had the strangest desire to go back in time and make those discoveries at young Qui-Gon's side.
"The lesson here is that even though the Force is the energy of life, and even though we use the Force in the service of Light, it can still be misapplied through carelessness or ignorance. You must always be careful what you do with such power, and always be aware of how you are affecting others."
Obi-Wan studied the carpet, his brow furrowed. He was more curious than ever, now -- what *would* it be like with a partner? Perhaps he should try going along with Fellist's ideas. But all of Obi-Wan's earlier reasons for keeping to a mild flirtation with Fellist still held good. He still didn't want to offend the Senator, and he still wanted a partner with at least a little experience. In fact... he glanced up speculatively at his master.
"Do you have a question, Padawan?"
Obi-Wan's face began to warm again. "No. Well, yes, I suppose. I thought...I mean, I've always thought I'd want my first sexual partner to be -- well, someone who knows what they're doing." He swallowed. He couldn't really do this, could he? Qui-Gon was so *big*.
"A wise decision," Qui-Gon approved.
"Yes, but now...I guess I have to find a partner who doesn't just know about sex, but also knows about the Force. Sex *and* the Force."
Qui-Gon considered. "You don't *have* to, but it would be a prudent precaution."
"Another Jedi," Obi-Wan said slowly.
"Is this a problem? You have many friends among the other padawans, both older and younger than you."
"Yes, but we're hardly ever at the Temple. I might have to wait a year or more before I get a chance to, er..."
Qui-Gon sat back, his face at its most inscrutable. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his hands looked enormous as they clasped opposite elbows. Yet those hands had always been warm and soothing as they comforted and guided Obi-Wan, treating his wounds or adjusting his grip on his saber. "You could reconsider your requirements. If you take care, there should be no problem in taking a Force-blind partner."
"Maybe. Or maybe --" Obi-Wan licked his lips nervously. "Maybe *you* could...could show me..."
"No, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's voice was gentle and a little sad.
Obi-Wan's eyes flew up to meet his master's, asking the questions he couldn't voice.
"You are my padawan. Your duties are to work with me, to obey me, and to learn from my example. Sexual involvement could only confuse our relationship at this point. Your duty of obedience, for example, would interfere with that business of obtaining consent, about which you are so well informed."
"But if I'm asking *you* --"
Qui-Gon continued smoothly, never raising his voice. "It is also illegal because you are underage, both here on Alderaan and on our home planet of Coruscant. I see no reason to defy those laws."
"Four *years* --"
"It need not be so long if you keep to your plans to seek out a more experienced padawan. Sexual activity among minors is generally overlooked so long as there is no coercion by an adult." Qui-Gon smiled gently. "Just a few minutes ago, you said you weren't ready yet to go all the way. You've done very well learning on your own so far, Obi-Wan. It won't be that long before we are on Coruscant again. Wait until you know your own mind; I'm certain you'll make a sensible choice."
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan sighed and returned his gaze to the carpet again. He wasn't sure what he would have done if Qui-Gon had said yes; although he knew his master would never do anything to hurt him, it would still have been a little scary. So maybe he *wasn't* ready yet. But the more he heard and read about it, the more complicated sex seemed. How was he supposed to find someone to show him what it was really like, if Qui-Gon wouldn't --
"Put it out of your mind, Padawan," said Qui-Gon firmly, indicating that he had picked up at least a little of that stray thought. "I am your master, your teacher -- your partner in work, but not in other ways."
Obi-Wan nodded and stood up. At a nod from Qui-Gon, he excused himself to his room. The possibility of experimentation occurred to him, but there was too little time before evening meal. And he had too much to think about.
Put it out of his mind? How was he supposed to do that, when he had just started to look at his master in this new light? When he had just noticed the softness of his lips and the size of his hands? Was Qui-Gon just as big all over? The older man's skin might not be so smooth and clear as young Fellist's, but he had that lovely long neck. Obi-Wan wondered what it would be like to kiss his master there, where the life pulsed so close to the surface...
He was getting hard at the thought, and when he checked, he realized that the Living Force was swirling strongly all around him. And this just from thinking about his master's *neck*! Obi-Wan belatedly firmed his mental shields as strong as he could make them.
This was embarrassing. He had to work with Qui-Gon. He had to share meals with him. In fact, he had to sit down to a meal with Qui-Gon, Fellist, and Senator Vaar in just a few minutes! Obi-Wan rolled over to bury his face in the pillow with a groan.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes to the medbay once more, a little surprised to find that he had slipped into a light trance while reviewing those old memories. He smiled sadly as he recalled Qui-Gon's gentle rejection of his advances. He had wanted, more than once, to ask again, but had never been willing to face another patient rebuff. Instead, he had done as Qui-Gon suggested and found himself some partners among the other padawans. He could not be sorry for the experiences; some of them had been very enlightening. But all the lessons that he enjoyed most had been learned from his master, and he wished that this had been one of them.
Would Qui-Gon turn him away now, when there was a strong reason to accept? Some of those old arguments were still valid, and others were not. Obi-Wan was legally an adult now, yet still a padawan. He still owed his master obedience, although he thought he could give a reasonable assurance of free consent. After all, he had displayed his ability to speak up for himself on more than one occasion when Qui-Gon might have wished he had remained silent.
After considering all sides of the matter, Obi-Wan simply didn't know what his master would say to his proposal. A small part of him was insisting that Qui-Gon's answer would reflect upon his own desirability -- that a rejection now would be a rejection of *him* and not merely his suggestion. But he pushed those thoughts aside as unworthy. Qui-Gon would decide according to his conscience, and Obi-Wan must not take the outcome personally -- whether the answer was yea or nay.
He felt his master's mind drifting toward consciousness, and leaned forward eagerly. Qui-Gon was ready to awaken now, and soon enough Obi-Wan would have his answer.
In response to his movement, the medical droid came up to the bed and examined the readouts at the head of the pallet. "There has been some change?" it asked in the droning voice that was supposedly designed to be soothing to most races.
"He's starting to return to consciousness."
The droid's appendages moved back and forth over Qui-Gon's form as if indecisive. "Are you sure he wouldn't want something to relieve his pain?"
About to answer in the negative, Obi-Wan cut himself off. Ordinarily, Qui-Gon would awaken and the two of them would deal with the pain together. They would release it into the Force and settle Qui-Gon into a healing trance that would allow him to recover in less than half the time it would take a Force-blind human. Since both of those techniques had more to do with re-directing Qui-Gon's own inner energies than actually drawing upon an external Force, there was no reason they wouldn't work in hyperspace.
And after a day or so in healing trance, Qui-Gon's injuries would be graven upon his face permanently -- or at least until he found the time and inclination for a lengthy cosmetic regeneration.
Or they could try out Obi-Wan's plan, which might allow a true healing of all Qui-Gon's wounds -- but only if he could get his master to agree in the first place. They needed to have a calm, reasonable discussion about the possibility, and they couldn't do that if Qui-Gon was suffering terrible pain.
So Obi-Wan nodded at the droid. "All right. Stun the nerves on that side of his face. Only a short-term stun, though. No drugs."
The droid produced a medical stunner and pressed it against the corner of Qui-Gon's jaw. "You must realize, I will ask your friend what his own wishes are once he is awake. If he disagrees with you, I will have to do what he asks." The stunner moved to another nerve cluster, then another and another around the periphery of Qui-Gon's injuries.
"He won't disagree," Obi-Wan said firmly, hoping that statement would prove true of more than just the issue of pain control.
The droid treated one last nerve cluster on the side of Qui-Gon's neck. "There. He will be more comfortable now," it said in satisfaction.
"Thank you." Obi-Wan reached out through the enlivening bond and pulled gently, drawing his master toward him.
After long minutes, Qui-Gon's right eye fluttered open. "Ohhh --" he breathed.
The droid pulled out a drink-bulb and squirted a few drops of water into Qui-Gon's mouth.
Qui-Gon licked at his lips, dribbling a little on the left side of his mouth where the nerves were deadened. "ObaWa," he slurred.
"Right here, Master." Obi-Wan leaned forward, patting Qui-Gon's arm.
Qui-Gon's gaze became sharper, half his face crinkling into a smile. "Uz d'eaming avout you." He licked his lips again, his words clearing as he learned the trick of speaking with one side of his mouth. "About when you were younger." His hand rose, one finger tracing softly down Obi-Wan's cheek.
Obi-Wan gulped as he caught the barest glimpse of Qui-Gon's thoughts. Apparently his little memory-trance had not been entirely private. "I'm sorry, I didn't know I was broadcasting," he said guiltily. Then he realized that it wasn't so much a matter of broadcasting as that he had never quite broken the connection after he first entered his master's dreams.
"No matter. Nuffing e'se to do while I was waiting." The master's eye flicked around the medical bay, taking in details. "So, then -- why did you tell me not to wake up? And why no healing trance?"
The droid stepped closer to the bed as Qui-Gon looked at it speculatively. "Do you remember how you came to be injured, Master Jinn?"
"Of course. A pirate attack, and an explosion right in front of me..." His eye tracked back to Obi-Wan.
"A section of decking struck you on the side of your face," Obi-Wan told him quietly.
Qui-Gon's hand wandered up toward the dressing over his cheek, and Obi-Wan caught it away. "The nerves have been stunned; that's why you don't feel anything."
"My eye?" the master whispered.
Obi-Wan swallowed. "Badly injured, but we can save it, if we act quickly. I have an idea..." He stopped and glanced up at the droid. "Which I will tell you about, in private."
The droid didn't move. "I must assess Master Jinn's mental state."
"He is quite awake and coherent; that's all you need to know. Now I must speak to him alone."
"Master Jinn, are you in agreement with this? If you prefer not to be disturbed --"
"No, thzat's quite all right," Qui-Gon said. "You may trust Obi-Wan to know what I would wish, if I am unable to speak for myself."
Obi-Wan flushed at the praise, his hand tightening over his master's.
"Please call me at once if you experience any dizziness or a severe headache." The droid withdrew reluctantly.
The moment they were alone, Qui-Gon tried to sit up. Obi-Wan hurried to adjust the pallet to a more vertical position. He felt the wash of vertigo that passed over his master upon first coming upright, but it faded after a few moments. Blinking to clear his vision, Qui-Gon turned to his apprentice. "Tell me plainly, Obi-Wan."
"Many of the bones on the left side of your face have been shattered. The worst was the cheekbone and brow just above the eye. You had a concussion and some fluid build-up in your brain, but we managed to deal with that. Your nose and upper jaw were also broken, though they didn't splinter like the other bones."
"Thum teef miffing," Qui-Gon mumbled as his tongue probed around the deadened side of his mouth.
"Yes, three teeth gone. Stop poking at it," Obi-Wan said sternly, and earned a flash of amusement in his master's good eye. "The ship's medical droid doesn't have micro-tractors precise enough for the fine work, but it can perhaps manage repositioning some of the larger bones. All of the cosmetic problems can be fixed at a later date, although they look bad just now."
"How bad?"
Obi-Wan hesitated. "Bad."
"Let me see."
Obi-Wan glanced around the medbay. "I don't know where there might be a mirror --"
"Link with me."
Obi-Wan grimaced. He had been hoping to avoid such an intimacy until after he finished presenting his plans. He could try to shield just the one idea while he projected his sight to Qui-Gon, but he wasn't very good at that sort of simultaneous reaching out and withdrawing. With a sigh, he said, "Very well." He would simply move those thoughts aside and not touch them while his mind was open. Avoiding certain thoughts was a much more basic skill, and it would serve well enough so long as Qui-Gon didn't go actively searching through his mind -- a breach of privacy that the master would never commit.
Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon's face and concentrated closely on the visual, letting his senses extend outward. He felt Qui-Gon take up that thread of sensation and link in with him shallowly, touching only the surface of his mind. Qui-Gon's familiar touch and deft mental control eased Obi-Wan's doubts at once. He never had to fear sharing more than he wanted with such a delicate probe.
Once the link was established, Obi-Wan reached out and carefully peeled the dressing back from his master's face. He couldn't entirely suppress his own reaction, and he knew it had to be leaking through his surface thoughts, but he kept his gaze steady while Qui-Gon looked through his eyes.
The left side of Qui-Gon's face was a mass of cuts and bloody discoloration. Even the swelling couldn't disguise the sunken shapes where cheekbone and eyebrow should have been. The eyelid seemed to bulge outward by contrast, but at least it was mostly intact, with only a single long cut that had already been sealed. A glimmer of yellow-tinged white showed behind the half-masted lid.
Qui-Gon blinked several times with his good eye while he tried to move his left eyelid, but the stunned nerves on that side allowed no movement. Obi-Wan felt the fringe of his master's desire to see the eyeball, but he refused to reach out and pull the lid open.
"Your eye is intact," he said instead, and focused in on the memory of his brief glimpse of it when he had first examined his master in that dark corridor. "At least, the front is intact. There was some damage at the back of the eyeball from bone splinters and shrapnel. The retina will have to be reattached. The optic nerve was cleanly severed and can be repaired whenever we get a chance." He carefully replaced the dressing over his master's eye and sat back a little, pushing on the link between them until he felt Qui-Gon withdraw.
"Tell me the worst," Qui-Gon insisted, obviously having a good idea of what was coming.
"The blood supply to your eyeball has been compromised. There's a chance the eye might have to be removed in the next few days. If it goes that far, the only choices left will be regeneration or prosthesis."
Qui-Gon's expression turned inward as he tracked the damage with his own senses. "I see."
"The problem is too widespread for the droid to deal with. I was going to try to fix it myself, but..." Obi-Wan swallowed hard.
"We're in hyperspace," Qui-Gon supplied. Being so closely attuned to the Living Force, he was even more uncomfortable at trans-light speeds than his apprentice -- though it had taken Obi-Wan several years to recognize the unease behind his master's mask of serenity.
"Yes. I spoke to the captain, hoping to ask her if we could stay in normal space for an extra day or so. But it appears that a short delay now translates into a long wait at the refueling stations. We could be as much as ten days late reaching Bristeetst. I thought you would find that unacceptable."
"So I do." Qui-Gon considered. "Even in hyperspace, I should be able to repair some of the damage."
"Enough to keep the eye, perhaps, but you can't fix all of your face," Obi-Wan said. "Not without access to the Force."
"No, I suppose not. It will take me a full day in deep trance just to save those blood vessels." The work Qui-Gon was considering was much more demanding than a normal trance that would accelerate the natural processes of healing; he actually needed to reverse some of the gross physical damage that had already taken place.
"And...forgive me, master, but you know the Bristeen will not accept you as the Republic's representative at the ceremony with your face looking like that."
Qui-Gon's good eye creased in amusement. "That's true. Well, what cannot be helped must be accepted. I fear you will have to do the bulk of the work on this mission, Padawan."
"There *is* an alternative," Obi-Wan offered slowly.
"Oh?"
"I know how we can access enough of the Force for you to repair those wounds in a few hours."
The corner of Qui-Gon's mouth drew down. "I don't like what you're suggesting, Obi-Wan. You know very well that we must never draw upon the Living Force even in the direst --"
"That's not what I meant, Master," Obi-Wan put in quickly. "We can use our *own* energies."
Qui-Gon shook his head, then winced at the lingering pain from his concussion. "Too much is required. We could drain ourselves to exhaustion and still have only enough Force to make a few small adjustments. In the end, that would actually set my healing back."
"Not if we are generating more of the Force within us."
Qui-Gon hesitated. "What do you mean?"
Obi-Wan moistened his lips nervously. "You know what I was thinking about just before you awakened, Master."
"A memory-trance? How will that help me to heal?"
"No, I mean the content of that particular memory. A way of producing the Living Force inside ourselves."
There was a long pause while Qui-Gon absorbed that, and then an astonished chuckle escaped him. "You propose that I should masturbate myself back to health and beauty?"
Obi-Wan swallowed against a dry throat. "Well...the effect *is* considerably stronger with a partner. Especially a Force-sensitive partner." That sounded remarkably rational and businesslike for a sexual proposition, he thought.
"You're serious!" Qui-Gon exclaimed.
"Of course." Did his master really think Obi-Wan would joke about such a thing?
"Obi-Wan, it doesn't work that way. Sexual excitement is merely another way of gathering in the available Force from around us --"
"No, it's not!" Obi-Wan was so surprised to hear his master saying something untrue that he interrupted without thinking. "It actually generates Living Force from our own energies. No contact with external Force is required."
Qui-Gon frowned at being contradicted. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I've used it that way before."
"In hyperspace?"
"Well...no. It was when I had literally *no* contact with outside Force at all." Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "Do you remember the time we went to Arawoon?"
Qui-Gon's half-expression turned sour. "Vividly. That mission gave me nightmares for a month afterward."
Obi-Wan blinked. "I rather enjoyed it, actually."
"You *would*. You were off playing with your agemates while I did the negotiating."
"Well, yes, and also..." Obi-Wan coughed. "I was able to put that technique for Force-generation to good use in the end, as well. It was, er, *interesting* to find such a practical application for that particular activity."
Qui-Gon frowned, obviously searching his recollection of the mission for any such event. Obi-Wan waited patiently, half-smiling, and considered his own memories of that exceptionally wet adventure.
"I have a bad feeling about this."
"Why?" Obi-Wan looked up, tugging at the sleeve of his new shirt. "It sounds interesting to me."
Qui-Gon was trying to adjust his own outfit. The tight-fitting design felt strange after decades of loose tunics and robes, but these clothes were made of a lightweight material that dried quickly, wouldn't bog them down underwater, and would hold a thin layer of still water near their skin for insulation. "It isn't a true foreboding," Qui-Gon reassured his apprentice quickly. "I rarely have a strong sense of the future. But I don't feel that we're adequately prepared for this mission." He felt particularly concerned for the safety of his padawan, whose apprenticeship had gotten off to a rather rocky start less than two years before.
"I finished those Avoorn language tapes," Obi-Wan offered, in evidence of his preparedness.
"Hmm. And what did you think of them?"
"Well...the vocabulary wasn't very large, for such a complicated language."
"Exactly. The language has only partially been mapped, and we will be missing some of the finer inflections."
"All those weird vowel sounds...I don't think I can make those noises. I can do the transliterations, I think, but the Avoorn won't understand that. Are we supposed to be able to sound like them?"
"No, it's not possible for us to speak this language. Like Wookiee, it requires a larger resonating cavity, or else years of practice to compensate. We will be using translators -- here is yours. But the protocol chips in the translators are not perfect. We must choose our words carefully to avoid inflections that might give offense. Let me do most of the talking."
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan turned the small unit over in his hands, trying to figure out how to use it.
"It goes over the end of your aquata breather, like so." Qui-Gon demonstrated. "Then you must speak as distinctly as you can, in very simple sentences."
Obi-Wan nodded and tugged at his sleeves again. His feet were braced wide on the deck of their small tri-phibious ship, balancing against the gentle rocking of the waves.
Qui-Gon spoke slowly. "As I've told you before, Padawan, we must never let ourselves become distracted by our own fears. But in this case it's only prudent to be conscious of the dangers. We will be in an environment that is hostile to us by its very nature. We are dealing with people who know little of the Republic or the Jedi, and who have less at stake in these negotiations than we do."
"Still, it's nice to be working on behalf of the Jedi for once, instead of people we hardly know." Obi-Wan smiled cheerfully.
"True. If we can establish a trade agreement for these Force-reactive crystals, we won't have to pay so much for stones grown in microgravity."
"And these ones are supposed to be more powerful, too." Obi-Wan unhooked his own lightsaber and considered it. "It seems odd that we're negotiating for saber crystals, but we can't take our weapons with us."
"They would do us little good underwater." Qui-Gon accepted the hilt from his student and tucked it into a waterproof case alongside his own, then carefully locked the case. "Now, we will be limited to no more than four hours at a time in the water. That's a precaution to make sure that we maintain our body temperature, in addition to the fact that our breathers are only good for about that long. You have all four breathers on you?"
Obi-Wan nodded, patting the cases on his belt. "I'll be all right, Master. I was at the top of my class in physio-control techniques. I can hold my breath for over fifteen minutes, and resist decompression sickness even if I have to surface really quickly."
"Good. Use the earplugs and nose filters, as well. They'll provide some protection from the volcanic metals in these waters, although we'll still absorb the poisons through our skins."
Obi-Wan smiled. "I still think this will be interesting. Hardly anyone from the Republic has ever been here. It's like exploring a new world!"
Qui-Gon smiled tightly. He wasn't quite certain just why he felt so uneasy about this mission, although part of it might be the incessant rocking of the tri-phib. The constant motion was throwing him off emotionally as well as physically. Or perhaps there was a thread of future-sense trying to warn him.
Well, there was nothing that could be done at this point. He might wish that the Council had found an aquatic team for this mission, but it was too late for that now. He and Obi-Wan were as ready as they could be; they would simply have to trust in the Force to guide them through any difficulties that might arise.
After one last check of their clothing and equipment, Qui-Gon opened the lock in the belly of their Calamarian-designed ship. The air pressure within the ship had been carefully set to ensure that the water level would only rise as far as they wanted it. Once the lock was full, Qui-Gon led the way down the steps and into the chill water.
The planet of Arawoon had no sizeable land-masses; all of its continents were underwater, and only the tallest mountains poked small islands above the surface of the great ocean. The Jedi were swimming above one such continent now. The Avoorn, being only partially amphibious, occasionally had to snatch a breath of air; for that reason, they liked to live in shallower waters, even though their technology allowed them to bring air directly to their homes. The bottom here was no more than fifty meters below the surface.
Qui-Gon had only gone a short distance, with his padawan close behind, when the first hulking shapes appeared through the shadowy waters. The Jedi held position politely while their escort looked them over, then Qui-Gon asked if he might see the chieftain of the Bavwauu pod, which occupied the waters around the crystal deposits.
He was relieved to find that the translator worked well, producing a pure, resonant song from his mumbles around the breather. The protocol chip's translation seemed accurate to his half-trained ears, and their escort evidently understood his request. The longest green figure moaned an assent and began to swim -- very slowly, in deference to the outsiders -- down to a cluster of buildings on the sea floor.
The dwellings of the Avoorn were large, organic shapes made of a pearly shell-like substance, very appealing to the eye. Intake stacks bristled at the topmost portion of each structure, drawing in water and extracting the gases dissolved within. When Qui-Gon and his apprentice were conducted into the grandest of the buildings, he glanced up to see a bubble of air near the ceiling, where the Avoorn could rise a few times each hour and take a breath at their leisure.
Their escort had moved closer now, and in the greenish phosphor glow that lit the interior of the building, Qui-Gon had his first close look at the Avoorn. They had the functional streamlined shape common to most aquatic creatures, with a few exceptions; instead of fins, the Avoorn had skirt-like layers of cartilage down the length of their bodies, which rippled elegantly to provide propulsion. Their heads were large and their slit-pupiled eyes widely spaced, indicating the size of the brains that had given them sentience. And rather than the hands which common wisdom said were necessary for the evolution of intelligence, the Avoorn had whiskery tentacles all around their mouths. Versatile and surprisingly strong, those tentacles offered all the dexterity the Avoorn needed to develop an impressive technology base. Perhaps most notable of all, a typical adult was about five times as long and a hundred times as massive as Qui-Gon himself, making them the largest intelligent creatures he had ever had to deal with -- larger than all but the oldest and most bloated of Hutts.
The Avoorn wore no clothing, but jewelry was very popular. The chieftain who awaited them at the end of the vaulted hall was especially festooned with trinkets, including many Force crystals in gleaming settings of the same shell-material the buildings were composed of. Qui-Gon winced inwardly as he realized that the resonance of the crystals would make it more difficult for him to use the Force to sense or influence the chieftain's thoughts.
He waited for the chieftain to speak first, as their limited cultural briefing had indicated would be proper. The chieftain was the largest Avoorn in the hall, and the leader of their escort -- also a very large creature -- was evidently his second-in-command. As the chieftain glided lazily up to the two Jedi, he diverted briefly to exchange a look and a stroke of fluke-skirts with his second.
"Chehhh-daiiii," the chieftain spoke at last, having made a full circle around the pair of humans. He placed himself slightly above them, in a position of dominance.
Qui-Gon took a moment to recognize the word, but once realization dawned he was astonished at how close it came to the correct pronunciation.
"We heard of your coming," the chieftain boomed in his own language. "You want something from us."
"Honored chieftain of the Bavwauu," Qui-Gon said, wishing he had a name to work with. He used his hands to flip the back hem of his shirt in a gesture something like the fluke-greeting he had seen the second make. "We hope to gain something, and also to give something in return. A free trade, beneficial for both our people." He listened to what the translator made out of that, and tracked the reactions of the other Avoorn, since he couldn't sense the chieftain properly.
Apparently the translation was good, since the chieftain made a sound of pleasure and allowed himself to sink a little to the same level they were on. "Welcome to our pod. I am BaswiIIrn, leader of the Bavwauu. This is my [something], WeiihuOOo." The complex inflexions of the names rose and fell, echoing throughout the hall. Qui-Gon's knowledge of the language was insufficient to interpret the word the chieftain had used to refer to his second. Lieutenant, assistant ...spouse?
Qui-Gon bowed his head automatically, which wasn't very meaningful to the Avoorn, then flipped the back of his shirt once more. He turned off his translator for a moment and used the Force to amplify his own voice through the water. "Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi of the Jedi."
Several of the Avoorn started in surprise as bubbles rose from Qui-Gon's mouth, distorting his speech. He quickly reactivated his translator. "We are honored by your welcome."
A smaller Avoorn floated out of the shadows at the edge of the hall, approaching them cautiously from below. Qui-Gon thought it must be a juvenile, and wondered why the child was allowed to interfere with diplomatic proceedings. Very likely, knowing nothing of the Jedi, the Avoorn didn't consider them to be potentially dangerous.
Obi-Wan was glancing at his master, and Qui-Gon offered a narrowing of his eyes to advise caution, then nodded slightly. With a combination of Force and subtle movements, Obi-Wan lowered himself a little to get closer to the young Avoorn.
The chieftain was speaking again. "What do you plan to trade, Cheh-dai, that would be valuable to us?"
"We have much technology that could benefit your people," Qui-Gon began. He quickly reviewed his limited knowledge of the needs of the Avoorn, and suggested, "Medicines, for instance."
The chieftain maneuvered closer to Qui-Gon -- and above him. "What about weapons?"
Qui-Gon reached out carefully to sense the mood of the room. This was potentially treacherous ground. He knew that different pods of Avoorn were in constant competition for territory and resources. "The Jedi do not manufacture any weapons that would be useful underwater."
The chieftain moved in a little closer. "Propulsion [something]?"
"We have several propulsion systems that might interest you," Qui-Gon agreed, thinking quickly. "Some would be useful for individuals, and some for vehicles or larger objects. Would you like to discuss the details more privately?"
Out of the corner of his eye, he had been watching Obi-Wan interact tentatively with the young Avoorn. Abruptly, the youngster gave a violent start, then glided smoothly to the chieftain's side. They had a quiet conversation that seemed to consist of partial words and gestures rather than anything that Qui-Gon could understand. Then the youngster sank down a little and the chieftain faced Qui-Gon once more.
"My offspring, HaruOOo," the chieftain boomed with pride.
Qui-Gon noted the similarity in inflection between the young one's name and the second's. Was it just a common name-sound or did it imply a relationship? Qui-Gon was not entirely certain of Avoorn gender identifications; could the second be the child's mother and the chieftain's spouse? Apparently the young one was something like a royal heir, indulged with privileges such as the right to interrupt delicate negotiations.
The chieftain spoke again. "Would your offspring care to go out and play with mine?" A few meters below, the youngster was listening intently.
Qui-Gon prepared to explain that Obi-Wan was not his son, then decided that it didn't matter. It might even give his apprentice a little extra status, if the treatment of the chieftain's heir was any indication. "Your offer is welcome." He turned to Obi-Wan and switched off his translator, a dozen warnings running through his head: *Keep track of the time. Conserve the air in your breathers. Stay away from volcanic vents. Choose your words carefully. Don't let yourself get trapped anywhere.* But in the end, all that bubbled from his mouth was, "Use caution. Meet back at ship."
Obi-Wan nodded eagerly and let himself sink down to the lower portion of the hall, slipping out through a side entrance after the example of his new friend.
The chieftain sang a long sequence of vowels that Qui-Gon didn't quite understand, and all the Avoorn in the hall swam away except for the second. The chieftain led Qui-Gon to a secluded alcove near the back of the hall, and the second followed. Qui-Gon felt momentarily hemmed in, but reflected that he was probably small enough to slip past them if they tried anything.
The chieftain inquired again about weapons, and Qui-Gon focused his mind upon the delicate task of negotiation.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6